I left the movie business shortly after the birth of my son in 1991. I had just completed an MFA in screenwriting from UCLA, and did not have the budget or bravado to hire a babysitter so I could spend the day writing.
I tried to
write during my son’s naptime. But he
wasn’t a great napper, and it felt like all my creative juices flowed out of me
with the amniotic fluid. I did have job
opportunities, but since I only know how to give 110%, taking a job in such a competitive,
24/7 industry would most likely lead to the dissolution of my marriage,
especially since my husband's career was also demanding; and I wanted to be
there for my son. So I shut the door on my career.
I took a part time job
in sales for a greeting card company. It was a ‘fun’ job with flexible hours. I joked that it was
easier than selling people – I had been a literary agent – as the price was set
and the product regenerated itself. I became a top producer and thought I had found a way to ‘have it
all’ – the elusive unattainable Nirvana our generation invented.
We moved back
East and I continued to work. But I wanted
more - to move up the company ranks, although it had already become a challenge
to work and raise my kids. Our son had “issues.” I felt the teachers blamed me. Perhaps if I
were around more, my son would be better behaved in class (read: It’s all your
fault…). Since many of the other mothers
in our town were ‘stay-at-home’ moms, I felt the suburban mommy Sirens calling
me home. Plus, we had two kids now. A promotion meant a larger territory that
would demand travel. I had that perfect
“Mommy Job,” but I had outgrown it. So I
quit. Another career door shut.
I never felt
like I fit in either world – as a stay-at-home or a working mom. Feminism had
let me down. I felt duped. I was angry. I naively had grown up in an idealistic
androgynous world where boys and girls were the ‘same.’ I was raised in a Utopian World to believe
that we could do and be anything. Unlike
our mothers, we had choices.
And while I
knew I was fortunate to have them, I felt choked by choices. I envied my friends on either side who didn’t
share my angst. I felt alone.
I started to
write again. I forced myself. Writing
became my way to run away without really running away. I eventually wrote a script that I was proud
of but discovered that I could make the movie faster than I could get someone in
Hollywood to read it. This meant doing it all: raising the funds, producing and
selling it. The end result was “And Then Came Love,” that starred Vanessa
Williams and Eartha Kitt. It was the scariest thing I’d ever done, but I felt
alive again. I was a hunter - even if it meant leaving the set to do my share
of car pools and stocking the fridge - because I was a Mom first.
We sold the
film to Warner Brothers. I naively
thought that meant I was back in The Business.
But after the film's release, no one called. No one wanted to represent me or invited me
to pitch meetings. I felt invisible again. I was back to being a stay-at-home
Mom.
I came to
accept the “starting over” reality and realized that my destiny and state of
mind was in my hands only. My kids were older and I had a simple mantra – try
to have more happy days than sad, live life with no regrets and fearlessly do
what makes me feel good as long as it doesn’t hurt others. I refused to be the Charlie Brown “Waa Waa
Waa” parent. I started to allow myself periodic “Cinderella Nights” where I
would go out in the city with friends that did not define me first as a mother
or a wife.
I wrote and
produced two more films. And still, no
one in the industry called, but I could handle it better. It is what it
is.
My Fiftieth
birthday was approaching. I was in my second childhood, but fifty sounded and
felt old. I had dealt with more than my
fair share of wonderful ups and traumatic downs that included two years on the
ninth floor of Sloan Kettering, where my son fought and beat cancer, to being
the first call when my daughter’s best friend committed suicide.
I realized
radical things were happening to my friends, too, as they grappled with
mid-life, aging and kids leaving the house. My experiences, those of my friends
and those I read about in blogs were as liberating as they were humbling. And similar to Lena Dunham and her friends on
Girls - we are trying to figure out our sh-t out too, and have stories. Lots of
stories.
So here I go
again… I created “Now What?” and am ready to scale an even steeper mountain -
the elusive world of episodic television.
Will I succeed? Who knows? But I quixotically continue to fight windmills.
While ageism exists, I am not daunted. I finally have bravado because if I
live life for the stories and enjoy the journey I’ll always succeed.
@caytha
www.facebook.com/nowwhatFMF
@caytha
www.facebook.com/nowwhatFMF
